Wandering Soul
by InvaderMimzi219
Summary: A troubled past, a hurt Friend, a new beginning. When Rosalia arrives at the renowned Foster's, she can hardly believe her eyes. This place is like no other place she has ever seen. First story! (Not really sure where this is going, so the genres might be misleading)
1. I- The Storm

Hello, everyone! I'm Mimzi, former Invader Zim fanatic, originally Foster's fanatic (oh, nostalgia)

This is my first story. Sorry for the grammar and structure issues ;-; my thoughts wouldn't collect enough for full-formed paragraphs. I tried. I have the second chapter almost finished, but I'm having writer's block issues... ah well. I wrote this for myself, not for you people. So I shouldn't be trying to please you all ^^'. Sorry the chapters are so short, too. Like I said, first story here!

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To see what Rosalia looks like, visit my DA page (InvaderMimzi219)

Aura color meanings:

**RED AURA COLOR MEANING**: Relates to the physical body, heart or circulation. The densest color, it creates the most friction. Friction attracts or repels; money worries or obsessions; anger or unforgiveness; anxiety or nervousness

**Deep Red**: Grounded, realistic, active, strong will-power, survival-oriented.

**Muddied red**: Anger (repelling)

**Clear red**: Powerful, energetic, competitive, sexual, passionate

**Pink-bright and light**: Loving, tender, sensitive, sensual, artistic, affection, purity, compassion;new or revieved romantic relationship. Can indicate clairaudience.

**Dark and murky pink**: Immature and/or dishonest nature

**Orange Red**: Confidence, creative power

In a good, bright and pure state, red energy can serve as a healthy ego.

**ORANGE AURA COLOR**: Relates to reproductive organs and color of vitality, vigor, good health and excitement. Lots of energy and stamina, creative, productive, adventurous, courageous, outgoing social nature; currently experiencing stress related to apetites and addictions;

**Orange-Yellow**: Creative, intelligent, detail oriented, perfectionist, scientific.

**YELLOW AURA COLOR MEANING**: Relates to the spleen and life energy. It is the color of awakening, inspiration, intelligence and action shared, creative, playful, optimistic, easy-going.

**Light or pale yellow:** Emerging psychic and spiritual awareness; optimism and hopefulness; positive excitement about new ideas.

**Bright lemon-yellow:** Struggling to maintain power and control in a personal or business relationship; fear of losing control, prestige, respect, and/or power.

**Clear gold metallic, shiny and bright:** Spiritual energy and power activated and awakened; an inspired person.

**Dark brownish yellow or gold:** A student, or one who is straining at studying; overly analitical to the point of feeling fatigued or stressed; trying to make up for "lost time" by learning everything all at once.

**GREEN AURA COLOR MEANING**: Relates to heart and is a very comfortable, healthy color of nature. When seen in the aura this usually represents growth and balance, and most of all, something that leads to of people, animals, nature; teacher; social

**Bright emerald green:** A healer, also a love-centered person

**Yellow-Green**: Creative with heart, communicative

**Dark or muddy forest green:** Jealousy, resentment, feeling like a victim of the world; blaming self or others; insecurity and low self-esteem; lack of understanding personal responsibility; sensitive to perceived criticism

**Turquoise**: Relates to the immune , compassionate, healer, therapist.

**BLU AURA COLOR MEANING**: Relates to the throat, thyroid. Cool, calm, and collected. Caring, loving, love to help others, sensitive, intuitive.

**Soft blue**: Peacefulness, clarity and communication;truthful; intuitive

**Bright royal blue:** Clairvoyant; highly spiritual nature; generous; on the right path; new opportunities are coming

**Dark or muddy blue:** Fear of the future; fear of self-expression; fear of facing or speaking the truth

**INDIGO AURA COLOR MEANING**: Relates to the third eye, visual and pituitary , sensitive, deep feeling.

**VIOLET AURA COLOR MEANING**: Relates to crown, pineal gland and nervous most sensitive and wisest of colors. This is the intuitive color in the aura, and reveals psychic power of attunement with , visionary, futuristic, idealistic, artistic, magical.

**LAVENDER AURA COLOR MEANING**: Imagination, visionary, daydreamer, etheric.

**SILVER AURA COLOR MEANING**: This is the color of abundance, both spiritual and physical. Lots of bright silver can reflect to plenty of money, and/or awakening of the cosmic mind.

**Bright metallic silver:** Receptive to new ideas; intuitive; nurturing

**Dark and muddy gray:** Residue of fear is accumulating in the body, with a potential for health problems, especially if gray clusters seen in specific areas of the body

**GOLD AURA COLOR MEANING**: The color of enlightenment and divine protection. When seen within the aura, it says that the person is being guided by their highest good. It is divine guidance. Protection, wisdom, inner knowledge, spiritual mind, intuitive thinker.

**BLACK AURA COLOR MEANING**: Draws or pulls energy to it and in so doing, transforms it. It captures light and consumes indicates long-term unforgiveness (toward others or another) collected in a specific area of the body, which can lead to health problems; also, entitities within a person's aura, chakras, or body; past life hurts; unreleased grief from abortions if it appears in the ovaries

**WHITE AURA COLOR MEANING**: Reflects other energy. A pure state of light. Often represents a new, not yet designated energy in the , etheric and non-physical qualities, transcendent, higher dimensions. Purity and truth; angelic qualities.

White sparkles or flashes of white light: angels are nearby;can indicate that the person is pregnant or will be soon

**EARTH AURA COLORS**: Soil, wood, mineral, plant. These colors display a love of the Earth, of being grounded and is seen in those who live and work on the outdoors...construction, farming, etc. These colors are important and are a good sign.

**RAINBOWS:** Rainbow-colored stripes, sticking out like sunbeams from the hand, head or body: A Reiki healer, or a starperson (someone who is in the first incarnation on Earth)

**PASTELS**: A sensitive blend of light and color, more so than basic colors. Shows sensitivity and a need for serenity.

**DIRTY BROWN OVERLAY**: Holding on to energies. Insecurity.

**DIRTY GRAY OVERLY**: Blocking energies. Guardedness.

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Chapter 1

The Storm

All I could think about was the drenching downpour against my skull. Soaked to the bone, I trudged through the rain, aware of the silence in the streets. Don't know why I was surprised, it was pouring after all. "Wilson Way... Wilson Way," I mumbled to myself, feeling the exhaustion setting in. I had been walking for hours it seemed, with only a flyer to guide me.

Suddenly, the storm escalated. Thunder and lightning now became a part of the music. Echoing softly in the distance, all it managed to do is calm my catatonic state. I squinted through the rain, aware of a sign-like figure looming towards me. I lumbered forward, hoping to find what I was seeking so desperately.

The thunder unexpectedly crashed around me, and in my paranoid state I mistook it for gunfire, bringing back my mind to ancient memories. I dove to the ground, leaving the rainstorm to find myself in a dark, underground room. It was damp with a musty smell, cobwebs lining the corners. A rusty shelf leaned against the back wall, an assortment of containers and dull tools tossed haphazardly on it. I looked towards my family, worry lining my face.

"Why did they bring us here?" I asked Tatiana. "This is not a comfortable home..."

Tatiana looked with pity at my short frame, patting my head. "I do not know, little Rosa. Do not fret, it is only temporary," she responded with something hidden in her words. Doubt, perhaps. I walked to Anastasia searching for comfort. She took one look at me and pulled a hair brush from her bag.

"Come here, Rosa."

She gently pulled me in front of her, swiping my hair behind me. She proceeded to brush, the family standing forlornly watching, receiving comfort from watching a familiar task. "Your hair is dark today, child. Are you troubled?" Anastasia paused a moment in her brushing, allowing me to consider my answer.

They try so hard to keep me from understanding. As if I am truly a child - A child who never grows. Technically, I am 144 years old. But imaginaries age differently than humans, by differently I mean not at all. _Whatever makes them happy_, I always think. _If I am a child, I am a child_.

I glanced at a stray hair lining my face. It was a dark grey-blue; almost black, but with an unmistakable blue shimmer. I supposed that's what stress does to me. Stress equals dark colors, according to the aura spectrum. I personally think blue is a pretty, happy color.

"No, Annie. I am not troubled," I lied, knowing that they wouldn't question me at a time like this. She continued to silently brush, watching the dark shades of blue, grey, and now green arise from each stroke.

We stood in silence for some time, unable to find small talk. Footsteps echoed outside the room, and a squad of officers burst through the door.

"Nikolai Alexandrovich, in view of the fact that your relatives are continuing their attack on Soviet Russia, the Ural Executive Committee has decided to execute you..."

Anastasia dropped the brush.

"What? What?!" Father turned to look at the officer, who repeated the statement. The soldiers raised their weapons.

I looked at the faces of my family then. They stood with proud defiance. Mother and Olga began to cross themselves. Annie had tears rolling down her face.

The triggers were pulled. Annie shoved me into the shelves, wedging me behind them enough to shield me. I closed my eyes, throwing my hands to my ears.

Screaming, then silence.

I opened my eyes to see the murderers staring at the bloody monstrosity in the room. The officers retreated, one staying behind to finish the job. Evidently I wasn't worth enough for an audience.

He was young, in his late teens. I gingerly stepped out from behind the shelves, deciding if I was going to die, it would be in a dignified manner. And yet, the boy did not shoot. He was terrified for his life, but some remaining humanity prevented him from destroying mine. "Go," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Go and never return. Speak nothing of this to anyone."

I never discovered his fate.


	2. II- Awaken

Well, here's Chapter 2. It's short, I know! ;-; I'm trying so hard *tryhard face*

Again, I'm writing this for my own enjoyment. I'll probably give up soon ^^'

PPS, Sorry about the paragraph formatting again...

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Chapter 2

Awaken

My face was burning as though I was in front of a fire. I opened my eyes to the glare of the afternoon sun, and then shut them again against the searing heat. I was caked in mud, now dry, and sunburnt to the point of roasting. Sitting up, I pulled a bit of my hair in front of my face - lavender. I had been dreaming, knocked out from exhaustion. I tried to stand, but fell with a whimper of pain. My muscles were too strained for any kind of motion. _What was the address?_ I thought. _Wilber Way? No. Watson Way? No!_ I searched frantically for the flyer, but to no avail. It must have blown away in the storm.

"Excuse me, but are you okay?"

I jumped, whipping my head to see the anonymous speaker, and found myself looking up, and up, and up.

"Sorry, but do you need some help? You look lost." The tall, red stranger bent down to look at me.

Without standing, I said, "Yes, I'm looking for W...Wal...Wo...Wil... Way," I mumbled, hoping he had any idea of the place I was seeking.

"Wilson Way?"

"Yes!" I clapped my hands together, not caring how childish it seemed.

"Sure, I can take you there," he smiled and began walking down the sidewalk. Realizing I hadn't followed, he turned back and asked, "Are you coming?"

Blushing, I responded, "I can't."

"Why not, little lady?"

"I can't feel my legs." I looked up at him, aware of the piteous expression surely on my face.

"Oh, I see," he frowned, but then brightened. "That's okay!" He scooped me up, and we were on our way.

The house was strange, but familiar. It was a huge Victorian mansion, with large, well-kept grounds and plenty of windows. I could see that it would be easy to get lost in a place like this. It reminded me of the grand Russian palaces of my more youthful times. _Youthful_, I scoffed,_ I was over 100 years old in those days!_

"By the way, my name's Wilt. What's yours?" He said, ducking under the gothic gate titled Foster's. I stared at him, suspicion cutting through my observations. Seeing my expression, he quickly stuttered, "I'm sorry. If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. Is that okay? I mean..." An anxious expression crossed his face.

"I'm not used to people seeking my approval," I remarked, surprised. "It's okay. I'm Rosalia, Grand Duchess of-" I stopped, my formal title ringing in my ears. I could feel my face grow warm. I shouldn't have compared the house to a Russian palace; it only brought back memories that I didn't need. Luckily, Wilt did not press further. He ducked in the doorway of the grand mansion, calling for someone named Frankie.

A young woman, her hair amuck, ran through the room. "Just a sec, Wilt!" She shouted, chasing after what appeared to be a blue blanket. But blankets do not run, do they?_ Perhaps in America, maybe. What a strange country_, I thought.

The blanket was screaming, I realized. It was profusely stating its innocence, running in circles. Outright absurd. The blue blob ran up the staircase, causing the girl named Frankie to give up. "I'll deal with him later," she panted, out of breath. "Alrighty, Wilt. Did you find a new friend?" She smiled at me, smoothing her hair back. "I must look like a mess. Anyway, welcome to Foster's! My name is Frankie, what's yours?"

"Rosalia," I sheepishly murmured. It's better to pretend to be sweet and shy in a crazy place like this, I decided.

"What a cute name! Why don't you come with me, and I'll take you to Mr. Herriman to get you all set up," she said cheerily.


	3. III- To America

I apologize for random indenting. Posting a couple chapters today, maybe more. :) Let me know if its hard to read and I'll try to work on formatting more.

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Chapter 3

To America

Wilt -my designated driver, I realized with amusement- led me to a tall doorway with a plaque that said "Mr. Herriman's Office". "Wait," Frankie said. "Maybe we should clean you up before you go in... no offense." She looked me over, noticing the mud and red tinge to my otherwise powder-blue skin.

"I'll take it from here, Wilt. Thanks." She scooped me into her arms, much less comfortable and slightly confining. She was much smaller than Wilt, after all. She turned and headed to the bathroom. By the time we got there, to my dismay, I was completely disoriented by the many corridors. _Suspicious,_ I thought. _She must be trying to kidnap me._ I gave myself a sharp mental slap for thinking such thoughts. _Don't be so paranoid,_ I thought. She drew my bath, making small talk about how I'll love it here and whatnot. After I was comfortably situated in the most luxurious bubble bath I'd ever had, Frankie asked, "So what's your story, sweetie? What brought you to Foster's?" I thought for a moment, and then decided I might as well tell her. "I came to America after seeing an advertisement for your home."

"You're from another country?" Frankie seemed surprised, but the surprise soon faded. "I did notice your accent, I guess."

_Ah, my accent. Romanian, with a hint of Russian, to be precise. _

"You are the one with an accent," I stated plainly. She simply stared at me, required to be polite, but obviously annoyed. I decided to continue, hoping to patch things up along the way. "I was living in England at the time. The girl who adopted me was turning 13 that year, and her mother said she was much too old for imaginary friends..."

I leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, listening to this woman talk to her daughter about me as though I was a goldfish waiting to be flushed. My cheeks reddened with anger. Stupid, stupid humans! I'm just like everyone else! Just because my hair changes colors and I have blue skin doesn't mean I'm any lower than you!

"You'll be 13 in a few months, Julie! You can't keep her anymore; it just isn't how it's done!"

"Mom, she's my best friend! I can't believe you!"

"Julie," she placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I had to give mine up when I was 9. Your father gave his up when he was 11. It's your turn now. I'm sorry, but that's life."

Julie grunted through her teeth and stormed out of the kitchen, hardly noticing me as she stomped past. _Figures. Hypocrite_. I rolled my eyes.

"Pack your things, Rose. I'm taking you to the Imaginary Institution in London. You'll love it there, don't worry."

What she didn't realize was that I'd been there 30 years earlier. I did not love it there. Nevertheless, I turned and headed to Julie's room. Julie, who was sobbing on the bed, still failed to notice my entrance. All she knows is she has a reason to throw a fit. We were never friends. Such a pitiful girl. I reached for my suitcase in the closet, having to stack up boxes to be tall enough. "What are you doing?" Julie sniffled. "Packing," I stated frankly. She threw herself back onto the bed. "You're so heartless! I hate you all!" She shrieked in to her pillow. Sighing, I pulled what little clothes I had out from the dressers and put them in my suitcase. I grabbed the soft brush off of the dresser and offered it to Julie. "Would you rather you did, or I?"

"You," she whimpered. I sat down on the bed, situating her in front of me. I proceeded to brush her hair gently, wiping tears back with her hair. "It'll be okay. Have you forgotten Tiffany? Or Hannah? They love you very much," I said soothingly.

"Yeah, but they're just girls. You're special."

"Hmm," I murmured. "What about Chris?"

Julie didn't answer, determined to have a reason to keep me.

"Wouldn't you be embarrassed if Chris found out about me?"

At first, Julie shook her head, but slowly she nodded.

"See? This is for the best. You'll be happy, dear. I promise."

"Tell me how old you are," Julie whispered.

I frowned. I never share my age with anyone, it's such a sad subject. In this case, I couldn't simply say no. I might not have loved her, but we were childhood companions. It's only fair, from her side. I sighed.

"Let's see... 1... 19...2... I am 237 years old."

"Who was your creator?" she whispered even quieter.

I was silent, stroking her hair. She left it at that.

When Julie had fallen asleep, I crept to the window and left, leaving a flower barrette as my only token. I always leave something for them; I know how hard it is to grow up. Feeling an awful lot like Peter Pan, I skirted through the evening streets, heading for the docks. Surely I can hitch a ride. With my small frame, I can fit anywhere unnoticed.

A group of tourists were lined along the dock, waiting to enter their designated boats. I slinked through the throng, dodging legs and unaware adults. I was almost to the loading dock when I was smacked in the face by what could have only been paper. _Damn you, paper!_ I thought. Pulling it from my face, I took it to be an advertisement of some kind.

"Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends" I skimmed to the next large print which stated "1123 Wilson Way" That's it! I made my decision, looking at the picture of the manor. It was bright and happy, not grey and square like the London Institution. This is where I would spend the time waiting to be readopted. I was getting tired of Europe, anyway. I heard Americans were very peculiar. I skipped onto the nearest boat for America.


	4. IV- Madame Foster

I might make this chapter longer... idk. Its starting to pick up a little, I guess xD Oh, man I'm so bad at this...

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Chapter 4

Madame Foster

Concluding my story, I looked up to see Frankie gawking at me. "You're 237 years old?" she said, astonished. I'd forgotten I'd mentioned that. Sighing, I affirmed her question with a nod. "Hurry up, Madame Foster is going to want to meet you!" She stepped out, most likely searching for the esteemed Madame Foster_. I wonder what kind of crazy person she is…_ Cutting my bath time short, I was forced to wear my only other outfit- which I rarely wore; my days of exploration were long gone. I straightened my frilled, dark purple shirt and looked in the mirror. Why did she create me with shirts that show my midriff? Somewhat annoyed, I looked at my skirt. I haven't worn this in at least a century. I examined the frills, dark purple with black lace layered underneath. It's cute, but it just isn't me anymore! My troublemaking days are nearly nonexistent!

Sighing, I looked at my hair. My hair would be altogether impossible to manage since I used fragrant soap; the flower extracts null my special hair colors, turning it into a wild, curly brown. I would have to brush it again with my personal brush to return its color.

((A.N.- I'm sorry for the bland details, I was going to post a link so I didn't have to explain every little thing. ^^' I'm trying, but even I'm bored to death with this! She's too serious! X-x))

I pulled on my leather boots, feeling affection for them just by looking at them. Well, my weird obsession for boots hasn't gone away, at least. _They need to be polished_, I thought with worry_. I haven't polished them since I was adopted by Amanda…. 20 years ago. Ugh…_

Checking myself in the mirror one last time, I exited the bathroom_. I know I'm going to get weird looks,_ I thought with annoyance.

"It's about time! Come on! Madame Foster is in the foyer," Frankie reached for my hand, but she soon realized I was too short to be led by hand. "Um… follow me," she said apologetically. I had to trot to keep up, something I was adept at.

We went through hallway after hallway, walking for what seemed like hours. "I've seen that painting before!" I dramatically shrieked, pointing at a painting of blue flowers. Frankie looked surprised by my outburst, and I couldn't blame her. It surprised me as well. _Must be the outfit_, I thought warily.

"Watch out! Coming through! MOVE IT!" The blue blanket shoved past me, glancing behind itself as if being chased. "Wha- BLUE!" Frankie yelled, taking a step towards the blanket, but deciding not to pursue. _Blue. Yes, it's blue. Good job_, I thought sarcastically. I dusted off and continued in the direction we were headed, only to be knocked down again by a tall, yellow, furry thing. It was angry, but I was angrier. I quickly stuck my leg out as I fell, barely tripping the yeti thing. It yelled unintelligibly and shook its fist, scrambling to get back up and continue its chase. Thoroughly annoyed, I ran up to Frankie and began pushing her down the hall.

"C'moooon! Let's go already! Ugggggh," I whined. Frankie resisted at first, obviously worried about the havoc, but eventually she shrugged and began walking. _Finally, sheesh. _We passed through three more hallways and a couple staircases before reaching our destination: Madame Foster's chambers. "Grandma?" Frankie knocked. We waited a few minutes, and I began wondering. _Should I be nervous? Should I be nervous that I'm not nervous?_ _Or maybe I am nervous but I don't realize it. When's the last time I was nervous, anyway?_ Tiny, quick footsteps could be heard behind the door. "This better be important, dearie!" The door opened to reveal an elderly woman who was roughly the same height as me. Surprised, I felt my jaw drop a little. "This is Madame Foster?"

"The one and only, dearie! What can I do for you?"

"Hi, grandma. This friend here says that she's over two-hundred years old! Can you believe it?"

Madame Foster narrowed her eyes, giving me a stare-down. I stared back; I've been through worse. "I'm from Europe," I said after a while. "And I'm 237 years old."

"Alrighty then, dearie! Enjoy your stay at Foster's! I hope it's the best place you've been to," Madame Foster said brightly. "You go on down and see Mr. Herriman now, dearie."

Frankie nudged me down the hall, muttering to the older woman. "You really believe her?"

"Oh ho! Of course not, silly billy!"


End file.
